


call the thing what it's supposed to be!

by 195cmclub (Claw512)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brother/Brother Incest, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Guilt, M/M, Pining, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claw512/pseuds/195cmclub
Summary: Sasuke tells himself this is for the best. This, is so he doesn't somehow find his way into Itachi's bedroom in the middle of the night, cut his chest open, and show his brother the reason why his heart hurts so much. Objectively, Sasuke knows he's actually gradually destroying himself. But it's still better than the alternative.Itachi, however, has never been known as a person who will just sit by and watch.Where is Itachi taking him...?(featuring: Sasuke, a sneaky Itachi, and a cameo from the anime where the title of this fic originates from)
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	call the thing what it's supposed to be!

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning is in 2nd POV, the rest is in 3rd.
> 
> Unbeta-ed. If you could point out any mistake I would be very grateful.
> 
>  ~~(I could write you something in return)~~.

[When you look at your brother it’s like your body’s no longer under your control. Your hands betray you first. Don’t touch him, you think, but your fingers are already grazing the skin on his arm as you asked where he was going. Don’t think about him, you beg, but the inside of your palms itches, and no matter how much you try to rub it against the coarseness of your jeans the feeling doesn’t go away. You clench your fists around emptiness and clench them again just to make it clear that he’s not here, he’ll never be here. But your eyes want to join in the riot, too. You look up at the night sky and somehow it isn’t quite as dark as his eyes. You catch glimpses of him on strangers who pass by you on the street and you know, you know it isn’t him but you have to stop your head from turning every time. And what about your heart? The most treacherous of them all. Screaming so loudly against your ribcage you fear he’ll be able to hear and then he’ll know and it will all be over.

You find forgetting in girlfriends and boyfriends and you go through them faster than he can remember their names. All the while he stays within reach but permanently out of reach. You get drunk more often than the average salaryman but when you wake up there’s always water and aspirin on your nightstand. It’s said that people destined to be together are connected by a red string of fate, but you know you don’t have it, you can’t. It’s the end of a strand of his midnight hair that’s wrapped around your finger, you think. He won’t even know if he loses it, but you’ll always be tied to him.

It’s been like this since forever, and it’s getting tiring.

You’re tired.

He’s worried, you can tell. And you’re sorry, but not sorrier than sad, and not sorrier than how much you love him. His lashes cast shadow on his cheeks when he looks down at you, and you think it’ll be the best last thing to ever see, but you know you don’t deserve it. He extends his hand to you but you smack it away. You don’t know if he’s offended, and perhaps you don’t care. Except you do. Except you care so much that you can’t afford to do it anymore.

Still, you cling to it, because it’s yours, because it’s the only constant thing in this world and you don’t know what you’ll become without it.

Tonight, like any other night, you fall onto your bed after marinating your liver in sake. You’re aware that you’re still wearing your outdoor clothes, even your socks and shoes, but they seem like trivial details. There’s a faint smell of sweet perfume on you. Did you kiss someone? Does it matter? Does anything? Your eyes slip shut.

You wake up on a plane.]

“What?” Sasuke says groggily, coming to consciousness slowly and reluctantly like a child being dragged to the dentist. He blinks a couple of time, trying to process the fact that he is apparently a few thousand meters off the ground. The low humming noise of the engine sounds too loud to his aching head. And he’s nauseous, but not terribly so, despite the amount he drank the night before, as if someone has given him an IV. Eyes barely open, he turns to the side...

Only to be blinded by the sight of his brother. Am I in a shoujo manga right now? Sasuke can’t help but think. His brother is looking at him nonchalantly. There’s an open window behind Itachi that lets in just the right amount of light to soften his features. He’s solidly real in front of Sasuke, but the edges of him are blurry, making him look like he just stepped out of a dream. If Sasuke tilts his head just right, he’ll think the source of the pale yellow light is Itachi himself.

Sasuke wants to smash something, kiss someone, chug sake, kiss Itachi.

No, no.

Itachi is looking at him closely, too closely. And he has to know. There’s no way he doesn’t know. Sasuke wants to bolt out of his seat and kick down the emergency door and jump off this plane. He should go to the restroom and lock himself in there for the rest of this flight, however long that is going to be, except his head hurts just enough to make him not want to stand up. His brother has thought of it all, of course. There’s nowhere to for Sasuke to hide nor escape, not really.

Itachi, perhaps mistaking Sasuke’s furrowed brows to be the result of the light, turns away to close the window, and the moment is broken. Maybe he doesn’t know? Sasuke feels his heart lighten with hope. When Itachi looks back, it is darker in the cabin and he has returned to looking like he’s just Sasuke’s brother, as if that were ever all that he was. He reaches out and strokes Sasuke’s head.

“Good morning, Sasuke.” Itachi says. He sounds... normal, nothing different from how he greets Sasuke every morning, and that is what makes his words so sarcastic. “If you really need to throw up the restroom is right over there.”

“Nii-san.” Sasuke starts, then stops. What can he say in a situation like this? What can he say _first_ in a situation like this when a hundred questions are running through his mind?

“How...” is what he decides to start with.

The corner of Itachi’s mouth lifts ever so slightly.

“Deidara.”

Of course. If Itachi pulls strings to smuggle an unconscious person onto a plane, he’ll do it so that he’ll walk coolly through security, then the front door, and sit down in first class without anyone questioning. Sasuke doesn’t want to imagine what he has looked like as his brother and his blond minion dragged his motionless body all over the airport. He closes his eyes. The light is a little harsh, but more than anything, he’s sure if he looks at Itachi longer he’ll break into laughter. He doesn’t want Itachi to see it. Doesn’t want Itachi to know.

“Where are we going?”

Silence. Sasuke stubbornly keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t forget, however, that Itachi is even more stubborn. After a while, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he reluctantly opens his eyes, properly this time.

“Europe,” Itachi is still looking at him. He’s taking pity on me, Sasuke thinks. He’s too tired to do anything beside letting Itachi pet him like he was a treasured dog. “Sleep more, Sasuke.”

The smell of perfume is no more.

He has to have been drugged, because when he opens his eyes again he’s in fucking _Venezia._ TWO airports away. Just how broad is Deidara’s connection?

“Isn’t this kidnapping?” He asks.

Itachi just smirks.

There’s water everywhere, is Sasuke’s first impression. And churches. Is there a church for every person in this city? Still, its various unique styles of architecture are amazing, and so is its general atmosphere. His brother has rented a small house for them to stay. Two bedrooms, but on different sides of the house. He ushers Sasuke out of the house at 9 sharp, every morning, and they go exploring until it’s dark. Sasuke is being distracted enough by arches of palace roofs and traceries of cathedrals that spending this much time with his brother is bearable for now. If he catches himself staring at his brother’s long, elegant fingers, there’s always something just around the corner to avert his eyes to instead. As soon as they get back to the house, Itachi makes himself scarce and lets Sasuke have his space. Although Sasuke’s not so dumb to think that he isn’t being carefully watched.

There’s one question Sasuke still hasn’t asked yet. He doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t know what answer he expects. He’s not sure how he’ll react. So he keeps it to himself. Itachi doesn’t seem to notice (Sasuke isn’t fooled). They haven’t discussed the incident that preceded the trip. It’s there, though, between them. In the room like a sleeping old hound. On the streets like an unsettled wind.

It happens on one of those impromptu wanders.

Without warning, Itachi takes Sasuke’s hand in his. They’re standing on one of the squares in the city. It shocks Sasuke so badly that he snatches his hand back like he just touches the surface of the sun or something, and stumbles into a passing person. He turns to look at the guy and stammers out an apology in Japanese before he realises that it should have been in Italian, or maybe English. However, the guy answers ‘it’s no problem’ in perfect Japanese. Even though his hair braided loosely behind him is golden, and his irises are of a warm light brown, the tail of his eyes reminds Sasuke of those Natori Shunsen’s paintings. The blond guy’s companion, who is wearing a ridiculously holey jacket, says something to him in Italian; he waves goodbye to Sasuke then follows his friend out of the square. Sasuke doesn’t know why he’s paying extra attention to them. He does, though. It’s the sharp gaze behind him that he could feel on his skin.

“Let’s stop at that café.” Itachi says, even though Sasuke isn’t looking anywhere near his direction to know where he’s gesturing at.

Sasuke studiously avoids looking straight at his brother, who chooses a table on the street that looks out to the canal, and orders drinks in his slightly accented Italian. The water is exceptionally blue today.

Itachi’s hand is suddenly on his again. This time, his palm hugs the back of Sasuke’s hand and his fingers curl around the shape of Sasuke’s wrist fully, preventing Sasuke from escaping.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke says. His voice is shaking, isn’t it? The water is blue today, a deep sapphire colour.

“Holding your hand.” Itachi answers nonchalantly. Sasuke hates him. Except that can’t be further from what he actually feels.

He’s confused, so confused. He doesn’t know what his brother is doing. He doesn’t dare think about _the other question_. Itachi likes teasing him. Maye that’s all this it. He has found out, and he’s teasing Sasuke about it. But there’s nothing jovial in his tone, and, even for Itachi, taking Sasuke on a first-class flight all the way to Italy for a joke is a little too much.

The water is so blue, Sasuke thinks, and therefore he doesn’t notice that the waiter has come back to bring them fresh water.

“Mamma mia.” That he hears, though.

“Ah, young love.” The waiter continues. Sasuke’s head whips so hard towards the guy that he’s surprised he doesn’t hear a crack. The waiter looks to be in his sixty. He’s probably the owner, rather than just a waiter. It’s only a small café. He carefully puts the jug of water down on the table, along with two glasses, and doesn’t stop talking. “You’re in just the right place for it, boys. Nowhere better. Italy is the true country for romance. Don’t be fooled by the French PR stunts. I took my wife to Paris when we were young, wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Ended up proposing to her right here and then bought this place to commemorate.”

He points up to the shopfront, and only now does Sasuke notice that the name of this small café is ‘ _la proposta_ ’.

“How long have you two been together?” He asks.

“Forever.” Itachi answers, smiling. A real, radiant smile that makes Sasuke’s heart do a flip flop in his chest despite the situation. Then he processes what his fucking **brother** just said and his heart plummets all the way down to his feet.

It is a fucking joke.

The owner, not noticing Sasuke’s darkened expression, or maybe it’s because Sasuke still looks smitten despite the turmoil in his head, guffaws at Itachi’s answers. “Very well put,” he says.

“Your drinks will be ready soon. Enjoy yourselves, boys.” He winks at them before leaving.

The water is behind Sasuke now, far away and out of sight like it’s the river of Yomi. He can’t move. There’s a pressure behind his eyeballs. His brother doesn’t know. That must be it. He doesn’t know and his joke is only coincidental, because there is no way nii-san would be this cruel to him. That’s right. He can’t know, because in his eyes Sasuke is the pure little brother in need of protection, not...

Itachi turns his hand and links their fingers together. The action, endlessly tender, only increases the pressure in Sasuke’s head. Slowly, he turns to look down at their hands on the table. His own fingers are stiff, frozen like they’ve just been caught doing something bad, but Itachi’s are anything but. His fingertips are pressed gently into Sasuke’s skin. His thumb rests peacefully on top of Sasuke’s own. The gesture is too easy to understand, impossible to misread.

He looks up.

There is no one who is even half as beautiful as his brother. Itachi’s sharp eyes are staring uninterrupted at Sasuke, but his gaze is anything but piercing. He doesn’t look like he’s studying specimens in a lab, nor does he look like he’s taking apart in his head a set of data for analysis. No, he’s already passed that, he already has Sasuke figured out inside and out. He’s just... looking at Sasuke now, taking him in, waiting patiently for him.

The thing that Sasuke has been trying so hard to swallow but couldn’t quite manage to is right at his throat now. He’s choking on it. Still, he bites down on his lower lip until it tastes bitter on his tongue. No. Itachi can’t know. No one can know, especially not Itachi.

“Sasuke.” Itachi calls. And he’s gentle, so gentle.

“Sasuke, I know.”

He’s so gentle announcing Sasuke’s death sentence.

The pressure vanishes. Twin drops of tears fall from Sasuke’s eyes.

“Why...” And he can’t stop it. Can’t stop his lips from forming the word. Why did you go through all the troubles to take me here? Why are you holding my hand? Why did you tell the café owner we’re together? Why are you looking at me like that? Why are you doing all of this? Why?

He’s angry. Or at least he’s telling himself that he’s angry. If he doesn’t tell himself that he’s angry because this is clearly an elaborated prank, then he’ll have to admit that he’s terrified. Terrified of the answer, whatever it might be.

Sasuke isn’t an idiot. His brother didn’t just spontaneously decide to take him halfway across the world to a different continent. He planned this. Sasuke doesn’t know for how long or since when, but he has definitely planned this. But

Why

Itachi brushes the sole tear drop under Sasuke’s right eye away.

“Sasuke.” He says. “Sasuke, I love you.”

Sasuke doesn’t get it.

“I know.” Sasuke blinks. “What does that have to do with this?”

“No,” Itach smiles. Fucking stop doing that, Sasuke thinks. The smile is so fond that it makes Sasuke’s chest tighten, despite the situation, again. He hates himself. He really hates himself.

“No,” Itachi repeats. Elbow on the table, he cups Sasuke’s cheek with his hand. “I love you, Sasuke.”

It takes him a moment.

He can’t speak.

The gulls are loud in Venezia. Louder than human, even. It’s impossible to escape their screaming no matter where you are in the city. Yet, Sasuke, sitting right next to the water, doesn’t hear a thing.

Nothing beside _I love you, Sasuke_.

It’s too strange to Sasuke’s ears, as if he’s never heard such words before. That’s not true, of course. They rarely say it, but they do say it. His mother, for example, is fond of the word.

“From the moment you were born, I’ve sworn to myself that I’ll always protect you, no matter what.” Itachi continues. He’s so frank he seems like a different person all together. “And that includes protecting you from myself. That is why, as soon as I could, I got that scholarship and moved to Europe alone.”

When Sasuke was nine, his brother left for university and didn’t come home for seven years.

“I only returned because I grew up, and I knew I had it under control. When I saw you for the first time, waiting for me at that airport, it was like waking up from a deep slumber, finally becoming real again. Like I had just been living a borrowed life, a fictional world, all those years.”

“And then, ten months ago...” Ten months ago was when Sasuke could no longer deny what he had felt for years. Ten months ago, he woke up in the middle of the night, bone-deep exhausted from a fever, to see his brother propped up on a pillow next to him on the bed, still awake. Ten months ago, his brother, with dark shadows under his eyes, lines between his brows, and a pale colour on his lips, asked in a tired, hushed voice:

“Are you feeling any better, Sasuke?”

And he knew.

Apparently, Itachi knew, too. Sasuke’s head goes blank with embarrassment. He should have thrown himself off that plane.

“I wanted to see if it was just a passing infatuation. I wanted to see if you could find a way to forget on your own. I thought about moving away again, but then what if something happened to you while I’m not there.”

Sasuke knows Itachi hates it the most when things are out of his control. He isn’t sure how Itachi was able to actively choose to not interfere. It must have been especially torturous for him, watching Sasuke spiral and not allowing himself to do anything.

He’s just fallen deeper for his brother, he’s sure.

“Then came a point when it was clear that I was no longer the greatest threat to your safety. And I decided I had to do something.”

Itachi covers Sasuke’s hand in both of his.

“That is why we’re here, Sasuke. But this time, I’ll leave the choice to you. Whatever you choose, I’ll be happy.”

He tilts his head slightly and smiles, and Sasuke is forced to also consider the possibility that his brother knows what his smile does to him. Damn, does he have no secret from Itachi?

“No matter what you decide, I’ll always love you.” Itachi says, as sincere as he can be.

It should be an easy question to answer.

It’s not.

Sasuke closed his eyes and it was his brother’s dark irises that he saw among all the stars in the vast blackness of the universe. He opened his eyes and it was the slender curve of his brother’s wrist he saw in the shape of the light on the ceiling. Yet, despite the yearning in heart, he has never even dared to wish that his brother could feel the same way, not even now, not even jokingly. He had a love that felt so alone, but he revelled in its loneliness because he knew it was impossible. More impossible than impossible.

He guesses his brother has always been good at doing the impossible.

Sasuke knows what he wants. He. knows. what. he. wants. He isn’t afraid of things changing between them. Things have already changed. Itachi has set that wheel in motion for him already. He has taken Sasuke through every step, all the way to here. And all Sasuke has to do now is either stop or accelerate. What he doesn’t know, is how things will turn out between them, if it’ll be for better, or for worse.

Maybe I’m not as smart as I think I am, Sasuke thinks. There is no worse. Nothing is worse than not knowing the feeling of being loved by nii-san, and never having the opportunity to love him the way Sasuke wants to love him. Sasuke knows, because he’s living it now.

“I want this.” Sasuke says, the words chasing themselves out of his mouth in a rush. This time, it’s him who clutches at Itachi’s hand. “I want you, nii-san.”

Itachi looks at him for an eternal minute. His face betrays no emotion, but Sasuke could read serenity in the line of his jaw. He reaches up again, places his hand behind Sasuke’s head and pulls him closer.

“I’m going to kiss you, Sasuke.”

Then, as Sasuke looks on, wide-eyed, Itachi presses their lips together. The gentle touch forces air into his lungs with such intensity Sasuke almost gasps. His brother kisses him like he has all the time in the world, and he kisses him until it is just him and Sasuke and Sasuke and him and no one else. Itachi’s mouth is soft, and he tastes as sweet as he usually does in Sasuke’s dream. With the hand on the back of Sasuke’s neck, he tilts Sasuke’s head slightly to the left so he can lick deeper into Sasuke’s mouth. The clean, fresh aroma that rises from Itachi’s skin gets the younger Uchiha drunk faster than any alcohol.

Sasuke understands now what Itachi has meant by becoming real again. Without this honeyed warmth that his brother is breathing slowly into him, Sasuke’s sure he hadn’t lived.

When Itachi breaks the kiss, Sasuke grips his hand tighter out of reflex, but he doesn’t go far. He leans his forehead against Sasuke’s. His breath fans Sasuke’s damp lips slightly.

“If you ever have any regret, Sasuke, just tell me.”

“I regret not doing this sooner.” Sasuke doesn’t know how he still has enough sense left to be bratty, but he does. Itachi chuckles.

The owner comes back with their drinks. This time he doesn’t stay long, just throws out another suggestive ‘enjoooyyyyy’ before going back inside.

When they stand up to leave, Itachi takes Sasuke’s hand in his without hesitation. He tugs slightly, making Sasuke tumble forward with a laugh. Sasuke’s hand tingles from his touch, like it can’t quite believe this either.

They walk along the canal, enjoying the street music being played. The world is too ordinary and familiar for something that has just completely changed for good. Sasuke looks unfocused at the boats running on the water.

“Why Venezia?” He has never cared about this city, never once said he might want to go one day, see what’s there.

Itachi bends down and kisses his cheek, very quickly, then his lips. He straightens up and smirks at Sasuke’s bewildered look. Around them, people keep walking, gulls keep squawking, and water keeps flowing.

“That’s why,” he says in that mysterious way of his.

Sasuke understands

It’s easier for Sasuke. This unfamiliar place is just small enough to be intimate, and just big enough to offer him the distractions that he needs. Here, they’re strangers to all these strangers; the words they say are just gibberish; the similarities in their features are easily overlooked. They came here because Itachi had decided to step out of reality for a while, so Sasuke can have his daydream.

The light is bouncing off the surface of the water. From the bridge they’re standing on, the canal looks like a river of sparkling, dancing stars, against which Itachi’s dark silhouette is a stark contrast. Sasuke takes in all the the earthly details of him, the faint human scent of his body, the thin sheen of sweat on his neck, the heat radiating from his palm. He cannot be a dream; he’s Sasuke’s reality.

Sasuke leans his head against his brother’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says.

I love you.

Extra:

Sasuke actually gets to go to the airport fully conscious this time, something that he makes sarcastic jokes about the whole way from the door to the check-in counter. Itachi easily eases his complaints by kissing him at the end of each sentence, making Sasuke, pink in both cheeks, quiet for a while. When Itachi gives the person behind the counter their passports, her eyes pause at their hands, very quickly, before looking down at their names and photos. She types something into the computer then apologises for the slowness of the system.

“It’s terrible today, I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right.” Sasuke replies. His voice is a little cold, but the lady doesn’t seem to mind.

“Romantic getaway?” She asks, perhaps trying to fill in the time. She’s just being friendly, so Sasuke doesn’t mind.

“Something like that.”

“That is great. How long have you two been together?”

Sasuke turns to look at his brother just as Itachi does the same. The older Uchiha looks amused, and also vaguely smug. I love him so much, Sasuke thinks.

“Since forever.” He says with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you're here from my twitter I'm sure you could guess who the cameos are (it's Giorno and Fugo from JJBA).


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